thestilestomyderek - Tumblr blog

[thestilestomyderek]

[thestilestomyderek]

Hi, I'm looking for long fics similar to, 'Play it Again' by metisket

It's a time-travel fic where stiles crash lands into the past, and tries to save everyone or fix everything.

Prompt: Established relationship for future Stiles & Derek; Peter figures out he's from different timeline or Stiles tells him when he asks for his help; Laura, Cora & Stiles friendship cuz i love them.

Thnx! :)

There's a time travel tag here. If you haven't already, you might want to try these ones.

Stiles plans are the worst (the best) by Dashar | 88.7K

Stiles world ended when his pack died. It didn’t exactly come as a surprise. He had been running with wolves for so long that within hunters and monsters it was just a matter of time. It was a surprise when the world ended too. And Stiles… Well, he had to do something about that.

The Seven Lives of Stiles Stilinski by glorious_spoon | 25.9K | Mature

Stiles disturbs an abandoned temple and catches the attention of a goddess of time and fate. When he starts time-traveling involuntarily through the past, he’s not sure if she means it as a curse or a lesson–but no matter when he travels to, he always seems to end up at Derek’s side.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill | 70.3K | Mature

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

[thestilestomyderek]

[thestilestomyderek]

[thestilestomyderek]

[thestilestomyderek]

Sterek AU -

Newlyweds Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski move into the apartment above a struggling, hole-in-the-wall diner that the owner is trying to sell. They decide to buy and renovate the space into their very own cafe & bakery. It's hard work, and some nights they go to bed with more dough in their hair than in their wallets, but they have each other and a place to call home. Everything else, they can overcome together.

For @sterekweek-2022 - Day 1 // Feels Like Home ♥

[thestilestomyderek]

Derek Hale & greek types of love.

[thestilestomyderek]

[thestilestomyderek]

Alright guys, I’m not going to be able to post stuff like this here on tumblr anymore. I’m on patreon though Www.patreon.com/xkxdx I post a lot of this stuff for my 1-2$ a month followers. Please consider joining me there to keep up with my art and most importantly, the porn!

[thestilestomyderek]

Bagno de Venere. The World of Interiors, February 2022. Photo - Ricardo Labougle

[thestilestomyderek]

Top 20 Sterek Scenes (as voted by my followers):

#3 - There’s a lot of myths, about how people can be turned into a werewolf. Usually a bite, there’s one about rain water. Drinking rainwater out of the puddle of a werewolf’s print. There’s another one. [Can you get turned by a scratch?]

[thestilestomyderek]

Derek: I think I hate myself

Stiles: How can you hate the most fascinating human being on earth?

[thestilestomyderek]

OML YOUR DOB IMAGINE IS *chefs kiss*. Could you do one with Mitch Rapp? I don't wanna pressure you it's your choice, but if you decide to do it can it be smut?

im a whore for him help

Truthfully, you know better. You really do.

Yet that doesn’t seem to stop you from finding your place in front of Mitch’s door that fateful Saturday night.

You know he’s in there. Heard him come back to the compound an hour or so ago. Had decided then that you wouldn’t let that night mean nothing. That you wouldn’t let what happened in the hallway be forgotten.

For days, you’ve been arguing with yourself that what he said—what he did—was merely the result of increased adrenaline and the thrill of success. That he was drunk. Drunk with power, drunk with alcohol, and drunk with the knowledge that he’d done what couldn’t be done. That’s all it was.

But no matter the excuse you create, you can’t shake the image from your head. Can’t erase the feel of his fingertips. Can’t erase the way he looked at you as you brushed the hair back from his forehead. Can’t erase the way his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “It’s always been you.”

The next, he’d acted as if it had never happened. As if he’d forgotten.

But it did happen. And you don’t think you’ll ever forget.

With a quick breath, your knuckles rap against the door. You wait for a moment, listening intently for any telltale signs of movement.

You hear the sound of rustling. Perhaps the shift of a sheet. The creak of a mattress.

But no footsteps.

You knock again before calling, “Mitch? It’s me, can we…can we talk?”

Another sound. Deeper. You lean closer, ear pressing to the wood as you attempt to decipher. It’s his voice, you know that much, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. Maybe he’s inviting you in. Maybe he’s inviting you to leave.

You can’t really be sure and the anxious hollow in your stomach merely intensifies with each passing second.

So, with a burst of self-assurance, you straighten up, twist the handle, and thrust the door open.

Your eyes find his first. That soft, golden brown you’re so used to. Comforting, almost. Familiar.

Then, you notice his hair. The way it’s fallen across his forehead, sweaty and disheveled. The way it drapes over his eyebrows as he peers across the room at you.

You notice the slight flush in his cheeks. The heave of his chest. Notice the nakedness of his skin, your gaze traveling down his clenched jaw toward the rapid ripple of his stomach.

And then…you see.

You see his hand, tight around his cock as he pumps up and down in a swift, urgent motion. 

For a moment, you’re not quite sure what to do. What to think. You stand, frozen in the doorway, eyes wide and heart racing as you watch him.

You expect him to stop. To cover. To feel just as startled as you do. 

Yet, he doesn’t.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t hide. Doesn’t attempt to excuse it away. Doesn’t even yell at you for coming into his room.

Instead…he groans.

And not the same groan you’re so used to hearing from him. Not a groan of exasperation or disapproval. 

A salacious groan. Lust-filled and needy. So desperate and depraved, you feel the way your stomach flips for an entirely different reason.

Now he’s not the only one flushed.

Your lips part, ready to call his name. Ask him what he’s doing. Maybe apologize for barging in.

And yet, there’s something in his expression that forces your feet to bring you further into the room. Closer to where he sits against the headboard with his legs strewn out before him.

He watches you like a hawk, following the movement as you slowly make your way to the right side of the bed.

You’re desperate to hear that sound again. Desperate to be a part of this moment. With him.

Your eyes flick down to his hand. The veins ever prominent in his arm as he squeezes the tip of his cock. As his head rolls back against the wall behind him and he sucks the air through his teeth in a hiss.

Mesmerized by the drip coating his knuckles, your fingers dance about the air as if reaching out for him.

But you slow, pulling back slightly as you look up. As you search for a sign. Permission. Encouragement.

You haven’t exchanged a single word thus far. And yet you almost know what he’d say even without him ever getting the chance to say it.

And you’re proven correct when your name is whispered from his lips like a promise, pulling you closer until you’re sitting directly next to his leg. 

Your pulse races. Skin hot as you watch him. Entranced by his beauty. By the clench of his jaw and the flutter of his lashes as the pleasure nearly overtakes him.

You’ve reached the point of no return. You don’t imagine you’ll ever forget this moment for the rest of your life. Don’t imagine you’ll ever be able to look at him again and not remember the way he looks like right now.

You don’t even realize that your legs have begun to part, your fingers subconsciously finding their way to your thighs as if desperate for your own relief.

But Mitch notices. Almost immediately. Watching the scratch of your nails along your sweatpants rather anxiously as another soft whine breaks free from his lips.

And before you really have a chance to stop yourself, your hand is slipping beneath the band of your sweats until you feel exactly how aroused you really are by this scene.

Your head drops, chin finding your chest as you take a slow, steady breath. Your touch is light. Quick. Dipping inside for only a moment until you suck in a sharp gasp. 

Mitch shifts beside you, straightening up as his rhythm begins to falter. “Shit…shit, lemme see. Please…please let me see.”

You lean back, palm finding the mattress behind you as you brace yourself and meet his eye.

However, instead of obliging to his request, you smirk, tugging your lip between your teeth as you curl your finger in once more.

Your jaw drops at the sensation. The ache. So sharp and blinding that you can’t resist the soft whimper you exhale.

Mitch’s teeth grit in response as he tugs at his cock once more, the sound clearly doing sinful things to his body and mind.

You tease him a bit more. Merely because you can. Because it’s him. And he so fucking deserves it after everything he’s done.

Your thumb finds your clit, the slightest amount of pressure enough to leave you jolting in response. Hand completely disappearing beneath your sweats as you feel yourself out, desperate for that rush.

“Fuck—” His resolve is crumbling, his motions becoming quick and focused. “Take ‘em off. Don’t make me ask you again.”

Your head shakes fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you indulge in the feel of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Suddenly, however, you feel a tight pressure around your wrist as you glance back up to see his hand, soaked and strained, tugging your arm closer.

You’re pulled forward, eyebrows flying up your forehead as you still about two inches from his face.

His breath, labored and stressed, tickles at the hairs near your cheeks as his dark stare finds yours.

“You’re gonna take them off,” he repeats lowly, and you can feel the chill run down your spine. “And then you’re gonna take me down that pretty little throat.”

You can do nothing but melt into the feel of his rough touch around your hand, so aroused from such a simple action that your brain begins to spin.

“Is that understood?” he asks now before his eyes quickly fall to your lips and you’re left to pant desperately.

You can do nothing but nod, the softest whimper slipping out once he lets go and your chest deflates.

“Good girl,” he murmurs proudly before nodding his chin at you and smirking. “Go on.”

So…

You do.

Full Masterlist

[thestilestomyderek]

[thestilestomyderek]

Derek Hale... the Gamer??? - Sterek Microfic

Everyone is 18 or older

*Stiles and Scott are in Derek’s loft, looking for any help they can get for the newest threat. Derek couldn’t help because he was in Mexico for ‘Something’*

Stiles: Derek has a laptop?

*Stiles asked as he pulled a computer out from under Derek’s pillow. Scott sat next to him on the bed*

Scott: Look in the docs. Maybe he has started a bestiary?

Stiles: Derek has Origin?

Scott: What?

Stiles: Look… it looks like he plays… the Sims 4?

Scott: Stiles, Stay focused. We don’t have all… why does that little avatar look like you?

*As the game loaded up, Scott pointed to the Start Game button with one of Derek’s Sims. It looked exactly like Stiles, so they clicked on it.*

Stiles: Oh, look, he is a good builder. It looks like he builds his old manor

Scott: Where are the people at?

Stiles: Oh, wait

*Stiles double clicked on the Sim Icon that looked like him. The two guys yelped when the camera panned to the basement. A Sim that looked like Derek was railing the Sim that looked like Stiles. They shut the laptop and got up to run out of the loft.*

Derek: What are you doing in my loft?

*Derek furrowed his brows, blocking their way out of the door*

Stiles: Save yourself, Scott… run

*Scott ran out, and when he got to the bottom of the stairwell, he realized he was the werewolf and Stiles was the human. He started to go up the stairs, but then he heard noises.*

Scott: Ew… gross

AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40473519/chapters/101865366

Wattpad

https://www.wattpad.com/1252882840-teen-wolf-micro-fics-lgbtqia%2B-derek-hale-the-gamer

[thestilestomyderek]

(not) ready for the first day, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Eli's nervous about starting school. [ao3] @sterekdrabbles for 26/08 (coat, magic, sophisticated; theme: Bravery)

Stiles wakes to Derek nudging him.   

'Eli doesn’t want to go.’   

‘Hrm?’   

‘He’s afraid.’   

Stiles lifts a hand. Derek understands, sending in Eli.   

Eli’s shy, eyes downcast. But he looks handsome and sophisticated in his favourite coat.   

‘C’mere.’   

He massages Eli’s back as his son climbs up.   

‘Scared for your first day of school?’   

Eli nods.   

‘Remember I put magic in your coat, buddy? You just put on the hood and bam! You’re a full wolf, like daddy. Wolves don’t worry about bullies.’   

Eli giggles.   

‘Can you be brave for daddy and papa?’   

Eli thinks before nodding, smiling.   

Crisis averted. 

[thestilestomyderek]

you steal me away with your eyes and with your mouth…

for bleep0bleep